


I'll See You When We're Both Not So Emotional

by cheesehunter



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, One Shot, TW: suicidal thoughts, hurt/comfort ig, introspection? ig..., its sorta sad, sort of. idk.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 18:17:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15646275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheesehunter/pseuds/cheesehunter
Summary: Imagine if the people around you truly loved you and weren't there because it's convenient.Imagine being so great that the people around you don't mind getting a little bruised to stay by your side.





	I'll See You When We're Both Not So Emotional

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yellow_backpack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellow_backpack/gifts).



> This is so sad, Alexa, play despacito. Man, I feel bad abt this one. This isn't rlly a gift as much as it's just angst,,, enjoy? I swear i was trying to write smtg NIce u kno but ig i'm not cut out for that.

There are only so many lights in the cities, and in nights like these, they weren’t enough to swallow the darkness above. Darkness that hung over Patrick’s head like a black cloud, like the sword of Damocles, shiny and menacing. He’d just freshly burnt the bridges between his latest boyfriend and he, the longest relationship he’d ever had, and most committed one too, and right now he felt too much like jumping off one himself. The reason they ended was stupid and seemed even dumber as the adrenaline diluted in his blood like salt in boiling water. Patrick had only broken up with him, but this felt a lot like murder, his hands felt sticky and warm, and the rational part of him knew it was the sweat on his palms but still, he didn’t look down, he didn’t want the visual confirmation.

 

The boy just stared at the universe in front of him, infinite and seamless, from the water visible thanks to the human-created light to the very mysterious horizon that mixed water and sky until they became one. During the day, this doesn’t happen, it’s only at night that somehow nature allows people to rediscover secrets they knew as kids, that the world is vast and most of it unknown, that there’s adventure, somewhere, that it’s not limited to kisses & fights.

 

On the brink of extinction, Patrick thought he heard a voice, but he shook his head, denying its existence. No one came hang out on bridges at 3 in the morning. Only Pete and he were weird enough. Maybe this was one of the things that had rubbed off on him from being too much around the poet.

 

Stump wondered if he was now but angry scribbles of black ink onto crumpled paper, and then distracted himself by concentrating on the wind on his skin. To be fair, he wasn’t planning on jumping. He wasn’t dumb enough, romantic enough to think his life would end with a relationship-- you get millions of those, some of them feel like the only love you’ll ever experience until it’s onto the next one-- but just for tonight, just for a moment, he needed to be the heartbroken kid, victim of his own actions.

 

“Hey, idiot, get off there.” The voice repeated, closer now, but it wasn’t threatening like the darkness atop him, more like gentle, warm, and very scared. “Trick, man, you’re smarter than this. Get off there, you fucking dick.” It continued, his tone pleading, begging. “You don’t get to do this, man, you’re--.. You can’t disappear. You’re one of the reasons this world is worth living in, so _please_..”

 

Only one man he knew would say all of this despite having just been hurt by the very same person.

 

“Man, you don’t get it do you? You know TV? It used to be black and white, but then technicolor was there and it was like magic? You’re technicolor. You’re the very flawed and very human definition of perfection, no one can prove flowers don’t bloom just because you’re alive. What if you.. did this… forced nature and it didn’t like it? What if life turned black and white? What if flowers stopped blooming? What if the sun stopped shining? Maybe not for everyone, but for everyone that matters, for all the people who love you...” He was crying, Patrick could hear it in his voice… “ You can leave me, but not in this way..” The man went on and on, but the words merely grazed Patrick’s skin, until they didn’t.

 

Suddenly, he was aware of the sound of the waves crashing not so far away, he was aware of the way the soles of his shoes threatened to slip and drag him under and he didn’t want this. He was terrified. He was so small compared to the immensity of the ever-expanding universe.

 

“P-pete..” Patrick whimpered pathetically after shakily making his way back onto the safety of the road.

 

He was only given a hug in response, words in his ears not that many people get to hear from their exes. Pete was still mad, still sad about their break up, and despite all of this, here he was, comforting a guy that deserved anything but that, and Patrick didn’t want to pull away. He was one greedy bastard, but he also happened to be shivering really badly and stealing warmth from Pete was currently the last issue on his list. First he had to apologize, he had to, for all the mean things he'd said and.. His lips were too trembling, Pete's eyes were too wet. He let himself be taken back home, he let his ex gently place a blanket on him, Patrick let Pete comb his fingers through his hair as he broke down-- as he, actually, for the first time of his life, broke down in front of someone else than his mom. This was incredibly embarrassing and he would sure as hell regret it tomorrow, when all the thoughts would've passed, and next week, when there would remain of them nothing but an incoherent memory.  


However, Pete wasn't laughing, he was nodding and holding him tight, whispering back responses that defeated his own darkness-ridden words from the simple logic of them. He was describing Patrick like one of the most precious things the world had, and Patrick didn't have the heart to tell him he was wrong, that he wasn't any of that. That he was a terrible person, that Pete was blind. He simply cried against the other male's chest until he fell asleep against it.

Neither could Pete fix Patrick nor would Patrick ever be able to fix Pete, you can't fix what isn't broken, and you can't break someone. Sure, they can be a little bruised and scraped, but you can't change that. Nonetheless, each other's words were like band aids on invisible wounds, maybe not fixing, more like helping the healing go right.

Things worked out eventually, did they get back together? Did they not? That’s up to you. But one thing’s for sure, that night, only the light that filtered through the window’s blinds in the morning was enough to chase the shadows out of Patrick’s room, and as he woke up wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, surrounded by pillows, he was thankful Pete forgot to shut them.

 


End file.
